EraseReplace
by WinterStorrm
Summary: Al hasn't seen Scorpius for three years and the hole in his heart is getting bigger.


****Title:** **Erase/Replace **  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>**Al/Scorpius, Al/OMCs**  
><strong>Rating:<strong>** NC-17  
><strong>Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong JK Rowling and associated publishers. I make no profit from this endeavour.<br>**Author's Notes:Written for the_ass_fest 2011. Thanks to singlemomsummer. for the beta work.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Al hasn't seen Scorpius for three years and the hole in his heart is getting bigger.****

It still tore away at him, ate him from the inside out. Which was ridiculous really, it had been three years, and it hadn't been real, had it? Just a maliciously cast spell designed to cause amusement to the caster and her friends. An act of revenge for a petty minded girl who'd thought that a couple of dates and an unfulfilling kiss had meant she had a claim on him; but he hadn't asked her out a third time and that had been the catalyst that changed his life forever.

It had taken five months for a counter spell for the bond to be found. Five months of being unable to bear being apart from Scorpius Malfoy, both of them affected the same way. By kissing and fucking and…falling in love…realising that this boy who had been his natural rival from day one was in fact nothing like he had perceived he would be, and everything that he didn't know he wanted.

They'd been inseparable for those few months, the demands of the bond made it so; compelled to touch one another, unable to help themselves. They hadn't fought that part, not after the first time, anyway, when they'd realised how _good_it was between them, how explosive.

Until Mr Malfoy found the counter curse. Scorpius had been so pleased with his news on the day his father had shown up at the school with a vial of shimmering blue liquid and a determined expressed. 'We don't _have_to be like this,' he'd said happily, his grey eyes shining with relief upon receiving his father's owl with the news. 'We're free!'

Scorpius hadn't noticed that he was the only one celebrating, that the hug he'd given his bonded wasn't returned.

That hug had been the last physical contact between them before Mr Malfoy had arrived and they'd been summoned to the headmistress's office and separated. Their bond was broken, the forced compulsion to touch evaporating along with it; for one of them anyway. Mr Malfoy had taken Scorpius back to the manor with him, and Al – Al had been left feeling as though someone had cut out his heart with a blunt knife and fed it to the wolves.

He hadn't spoken to Scorpius since that day, or should that be that Scorpius hadn't spoken to him? With only three days left until the end of the year – their last at Hogwarts – Mr Malfoy had sent Scorpius to his mother's in France, the message to Al clear as day: _stay away from my son_.

Al never received replies to his owls and the few times he'd tried to see Scorpius had resulted in rejection, Draco Malfoy making his son's wishes very clear.

Three years later and the ache had never died, nor relented, and sometimes Al was sure that the bond had only been lifted on Scorpius' side, leaving him pining and wanting and so incredibly lonely without the person who in such a short amount of time had become his everything.

**: : ⌘ : :**

Albus Potter was something of a player. He never fucked the same guy twice, never took one home with him and certainly never had a boyfriend. He enjoyed sex, he _needed_it. The huge hole inside of him needed filling, and sex took the edge off the burn for a while. Sometimes, if he was lucky, the desperate need would be assuaged for a whole day, but usually, it was a few hours before he was clawing the walls again. His other golden rule was simple – never fuck a blond.

He liked the Muggle clubs, there was more choice, and a greater anonymity; only once had he encountered another Wizard when in a Muggle gay club, and he'd fucked him in the alley outside, pounding him angrily into the wall for daring to _mention_ Scorpius Malfoy, especially with a 'Merlin, what was _that_ like? You lucky bastard,' – the kid had been a year below Al at school and knew about the bond. Everyone did.

**: : ⌘ : :**

Al was channel hopping on that night's conquest's Muggle TV, stark naked, when he saw him. It was some mindless rubbish about Muggles competing to become 'Britain's Next Top Male-Model'. Scorpius was there, on the screen, looking more gorgeous than Al would have thought possible, given the fact that he adored everything about him. He seemed to have poured himself into a pair of skinny jeans, and he was wearing a tight yellow t-shirt that shouldn't have suited his colouring but somehow, it was perfect on him. Al couldn't tear his eyes away as the contestants posed for a photo shoot, his cock hardening desperately at the sight of the man who was his first kiss, his first fuck, his first everything. This was the first time he'd seen him in three long years and he couldn't even touch him.

"You like skinny blonds then, huh?" came the voice from the doorway of – what was his name again? – tonight's fuck. The fever itched beneath Al's skin, the need to bury himself inside Scorpius-

He forced a smile at the man in the doorway, nodding down at his cock as it jutted hungrily upwards from his groin. The man – Al had an inkling he was a Tom – licked his lips and pushed away from the door to kneel between Al's thighs.

"No, I don't want that," Al instructed. "Come up here." He spared him cursory glance, returning his attention to the television as he found a condom from the coffee table drawer, peeled it onto Al's dick and lowered himself onto it with a contented sigh.

As the dark haired Muggle rode him, Al's fingers bruised the pale skin as he gripped his hipbones, staring over his shoulder at Scorpius Malfoy doing a piece to camera, a familiar pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Al closed his eyes and came, hard, a single lone tear escaping and sliding miserably down his face.

**: : ⌘ : :**

He wasn't expecting the intervention when he went to his parents' house for Sunday lunch. His mother and father, James, Lily – Hermione and Rose – waiting until he'd eaten his meal before cornering him, _'we're worried about you', 'you can't go on like this', 'you're wasting your life,'_ – it was his Mother's gentle, _'Scorpius has moved on with his life, you need to do the same,'_that broke him.

"I'm not wasting my life – I'm studying for my Potions Masters for Merlin's sake. I- I don't need this," he scratched out, the steel band around his heart tightening. He had to get out of there. He'd been falling apart for three years, the _need_ that burned beneath his skin was unmanageable – they were right, he couldn't go on like that, not any more.

**: : ⌘ : :**

It wasn't difficult to track down Scorpius now that he knew he was a working model; the show Al had seen the other day had been nearly a year old and Scorpius had been declared the winner – as if there had ever been any doubt of that; Scorpius Malfoy was beautiful. No one else even held a candle to him.

He lived in Wimbledon, amongst the Muggles, and Al watched for the best part of a day from behind a Disillusionment charm, waiting for a glimpse, telling himself that that would be enough. When he finally saw him it was all he could do not to run to him, but he wasn't alone, there was a girl with him; pretty with long dark hair and a bounce in her gait. They entered the building together, arm in arm, and Al only realised he'd been crying when he Disapparated home and stared at himself in the mirror, hating himself, wishing he were dead.

**: : ⌘ : :**

He saw an interview in a Muggle magazine: 'Scorpius – what's his story?' Al devoured it. There were photographs of course, Scorpius in his wire rimmed glasses, 'relaxing at home', sipping coffee, doing the crossword, lying on the sofa, a few inches of flat pale stomach visible about the waistband of his low slung jeans.

Al couldn't remember making the decision, but there must have been a moment when he consciously decided, and his finger was on the doorbell, pressed down for longer than was polite. Vineyard Hill Road was a long residential road, but there wasn't a soul in sight when he looked behind him. It was a cold and windy autumn day, and he could feel the chill seeping into his toes as he rocked back and forth, waiting for a sign of life from inside the old house.

He was about to give up when he heard footsteps on the stairs, and someone was running through the hallway towards him. The door was flung open to reveal his Scorpius. Al gasped in shock and tried to summon some words, because hadn't he practiced this moment in his head a thousand times in the last few years, but nothing happened and he was left gaping as Scorpius looked through him and said, loudly, "Very funny! Halloween was last month!" and slammed the door in his face.

Al fought back the nausea. Scorpius must really hate him if he wouldn't even give him the time of day! Merlin, he'd expected at least a conversation for the rejection. He needed- He needed_something_.

What should he do now? Should he try again, demand that Scorpius speak to him? Beg him for a few moments of his time? He'd looked so cosy and warm in his tight jeans and huge baggy jumper, the much loved glasses on his nose, Al itched to be pulled into his arms and just bury his face in his neck. No, no, no, he couldn't stay here, standing on his ex's doorstep like a crazy stalker.

So he turned away. This was the moment, the one where he either pulled himself together and listened to what his friends and family have been trying to tell him for years and sorted himself out, or let this be the end of him. _Scorpius doesn't want him_.

Make the choice, he told himself, taking one step backwards towards the road, stop being so fucking pathetic. Scorpius didn't want him and he never did, not really. It's time he came to terms with the truth and-

The door opened and Scorpius appeared again. "Hello?" he said softly, almost a whisper, his hopeful eyes scanning the front garden before standing on tiptoe, stretching forward and looking down the road, left, then right, shaking his head, his shoulders slumping. "You idiot, of course he's not here."

"Scorpius, what are you doing?" Al asked as something cold and very, very certain creept through him. Scorpius was closing the door, his eyes downcast and Al knew then, _Merlin_- He moved forward and slid his foot into the doorjamb, thankful he favoured those big heavy boots.

"What the-?" Scorpius started trying to force the door to close, but of course, there was a size ten in the way.

Al withdrew his wand. "Finite Incantatem," he said, pointing the wand at Scorpius, and repeated it again and pointed it at himself. "Scorpius?"

Scorpius let go of the door, wide eyes staring at him in confusion. "Al – I thought – I mean I sensed but I thought I was losing my mind again- Were you _hiding_?"

"No – I think – I mean I realised just now - there's been a spell on you- Ow!" Al flinched as something hit the back of his head sharply. An unopened letter landed on the floor at his feet and without thinking he crouched down to pick it up just as another came flying in, and another and another until they were being bombarded. A hand grabbed his sleeve and yanked him into the warm hallway of the house.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know. Let me just open this." Al slid his thumb under the seal of the envelope and pulled out a letter written on thick expensive parchment. "It's a letter from you…to me." Al scanned down the contents, his brows furrowed. He held it out for Scorpius to take, watching closely as he scanned it. _I love you_, it said at the bottom of the letter. _Please, Al, get in touch, this is killing me… I love you. _

"I don't understand."

Al opened the front door and a pile of letters fell inside like a snowdrift. He picked out another and handed it to Scorpius who ripped it open and read it before saying, "Whoever did this I'm going to kill them with my bare hands."

Not if Al got there first.

**: : ⌘ : :**

Scorpius had written to him every day for a year before giving up. "It was because of you I entered that stupid competition," he told him. "You always said I could be a model, and I needed money to go to Muggle university. My father refused to fund me. He wants me to go into the family business but you know I always wanted to be a fashion photographer."

They sat at opposite ends of a sofa, an old oak coffee table in front of them like a barrier, awkward and unsure how to act now. All this wasted time-

"I can't believe it," Scorpius said, his gaze focussed on the grain of the wood and not Al's face. "All those times I tried to contact you, I thought you didn't care once the bond was broken- My father-!"

Al sighed. Was this how it was to be now? They find out that a spell has kept them apart all this time, some cruel dark magic that creates a barrier between two people, rendering one victim blind to the other and now they're here, the truth revealed and they can't even look at one another, dancing around the past and not bothering with the present.

"Is it too late?" Al asked, cursing under his breath as his voice cracked. He has been itching to touch Scorpius, the effort not to _hurt_like there was fire under his skin that can only be doused with the other's touch.

The grey gaze flicked to his and despite his efforts to keep himself in check, the look in Scorpius' eyes was his undoing and perhaps it was Scorpius' too. They both launched themselves, meeting in the middle of the sofa, arms wrapping around each other, faces planted into necks and hair, Al's fingers spanning the small of Scorpius' back.

It wasn't a sexual hug, not at that moment, it was like coming home.

Al curled his other hand around the back of Scorpius' head and allowed himself to relax and breathe in his unique scent. He knew he'd have to tell Scorpius about all the other men, and how he'd been a mess for so long, but not now, talking could wait. Now was about connecting again.

Scorpius inched closer, the edge of his glasses pressing into Al's ear. "I missed you, Al," he said, his voice simmering with unshed tears. "You have no idea."

"I think I do."

**: : ⌘ : :**


End file.
